


bite me, asshole

by tryslora



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Buffy The Vampire Slayer Fusion, Alternate Universe - Vampire Slayer, Community: fullmoon_ficlet, Jackson and Stiles are Mates, Jackson is a Vampire, M/M, Mates, Scott is the Slayer, Stiles is a Scoobie, True Mates, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2015-03-07
Packaged: 2018-03-16 19:45:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3500597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tryslora/pseuds/tryslora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scott’s the Slayer. Stiles, Boyd, Erica, and Isaac are his Scoobies. Jackson’s a vampire. What could go wrong?</p>
            </blockquote>





	bite me, asshole

**Author's Note:**

> I am a vampire fan from waaaay back, and as soon as I saw prompt #110 (Thirst) at fullmoon_ficlet, I knew I wanted to do something with vampires. I decided on the fusion AU, then the pairing, then the rest of it grew from there. Yes, it’s a bit silly, but I had fun with it. This version has been expanded with an additional 600+ words to flesh out the "missing" scene at the end. As always, I do not own the world nor characters of Teen Wolf, I just like to play with them.

“Aaagh!” Stiles shrieks when an arm wraps around him from behind, hauling him back against a hard body, a tongue snaking out to lick at his throat. “Scott! Scott, get your slaying ass in here and do some slayage!”

Scott skids around the corner, a stake in hand, and stops dead. “Um, Stiles?”

“I found the vampire nest.” Stiles waves his hand at the creature that has him in its clutches, tongue still licking at his throat like a cat cleaning him. He shudders at the idea of a vampire with a cleanliness fetish, cleaning its prey before biting down. “Complete with one thirsty vampire. So slay already.” He mimes the staking motion with his hand, trying very hard to ignore the way it mimics a jerking off motion.

There are snorts of laughter; apparently the triple threat trio who have just arrived have _not_ missed the similarity at all. Boyd smirks while Isaac laughs outright, and Erica whips out her phone.

“Just let me get some pictures of this because oh, this is good,” she chortles.

“Stiles, it’s _Jackson_ ,” Scott protests. “I can’t stake _Jackson_.”

“Of course you can! He’s an asshole _and_ a vampire,” Stiles tells him. “Stake away!”

The vampire— _Jackson_ apparently, since he’s behind Stiles where he can’t even see him—slowly strokes from Stiles’s throat down to his shoulder, now nipping at the flesh as he yanks back the t-shirt to expose skin.

“Oh yeah, this is _really_ good,” Erica murmurs, and Stiles hears the fake _click_ of the camera on her phone. “Do you think it’d be better in video, Isaac, or are stills enough?”

Isaac leans over her shoulder, frowning faintly. “Go for video. We can make stills later.”

“GUYS!” Stiles waves his hands, chokes on a strangled breath as Jackson slides both hands under Stiles’s shirt where it rides up, fingernails tipping against his skin. This is _not_ the time for a fear boner, but fuck if Stiles’s body isn’t listening to logic. Nope, he’s hard as a fucking rock and… so’s Jackson? Oh God. “Thirsty vampire looking for the best place to insert a straw into my veins. _STAKE IT_.”

“Lydia would be heartbroken.” Scott’s eyes are wide, his expression worried.

Jackson growls softly, teeth clamping down without breaking skin, and unexpected pleasure shudders through Stiles. His knees shake, and he reaches back, gripping onto Jackson’s ass to hold himself up. There’s a pleased sound from Erica, and Stiles resolves to absolutely destroy that fucking camera if he survives the night.

“Lydia broke up with Jackson a month ago,” Stiles grinds out between gritted teeth. “And I am not the one who likes dating vampires. Or having them suck on my throat. That would be _you_ , Scott, our _Slayer_ , who is supposed to be _slaying_. Remember? It’s a verb. You slay, they slay, we all slay the fucking vampires _ohmyGod_.” He chokes on his words as the teeth just barely break the skin and heat radiates out from the spot, pooling in his groin until he’s aching and his jeans are way too tight. “Is this supposed to feel good?”

“Looks like it feels _very_ good,” Boyd says dryly, and Isaac laughs.

At least if he dies, he’s going to go out screaming in a good way. “You all _suck_ ,” Stiles mutters.

“No, Jackson sucks,” Isaac deadpans. “And it looks like you kind of love it.”

_I know you want me, Stilinski_.

The words insinuate themselves into his mind, and when Stiles looks around wildly he’s pretty sure none of his friends heard it. And besides, they’re _wrong_. He doesn’t want Jackson. He’s hard because… because… wouldn’t any boy be aching like this if someone were licking their neck?

_I can make it feel good. I can blow your mind, Stilinski. Why the fuck do you think your Slayer screws around with Allison? Because vampires are the best fuck of your life._

“I have to wonder,” Stiles says out loud, trying to keep his voice from shaking, “if Jackson has always been a vampire, or if he’s just upgrade from asshole to fanged asshole. Which is a disturbing image, let me tell you, like vagina dentata but of the backside variety.”

“And this is how we know all the blood has left his brain.” Erica smirks. “He’s babbling nonsense.”

It isn’t nonsense. His life is in fucking _danger_ and no one seems to care.

Scott is chewing on his lip, his stake still held solidly in his hand even though he’s several feet away. “Guys, go search the rest of the building,” he orders. There’s grumbling, but in the end, the other three leave, and Stiles is left alone with Jackson gnawing gently on his skin, a raging hard-on, and Scott watching.

Stiles really doesn’t need his shame to be witnessed.

“Are you going to kill him, Jackson?” Scott asks.

“ _What_?” Stiles yelps. “Scott, this is not the plan. Come in, kill the vampires, move on. _You know the plan_. Now do it!”

“I’m not the one who’s been killing people.” Jackson’s voice is thick around his fangs, dark and deep and echoing in the small room. “I’m not going to hurt Stiles. Unless he asks.”

There’s something about the way he says it that implies Stiles is going to ask. Which he is _not_. Being bitten is very low on his list of things to do tonight, if _ever_.

“Stiles, I need you to listen to me.” Scott steps closer, drops the stake on the floor and nudges it with his foot until it’s just out of reach. “Sometimes there are… things… that need to be worked out between certain vampires and certain humans, and I think Jackson might need to work that out with you. He’s not going to hurt you. He promised, and I believe him, and if he tries, there’s the stake. I’m just going to… uh… go somewhere out of earshot. Call me later, let me know everything’s all right. Okay?”

“So you’re just going to leave me here?” Stiles mutters, and Scott nods.

“Yeah, I am. Trust me, you’ll appreciate it later.” Scott flashes a small smile, then backs up, never taking his eyes off of them. “And Jackson, I mean it. You hurt Stiles, and I will stake you. I will stake you and watch your body fly into dust, and if that isn’t enough, I’ll burn the dust out of the air. I will _destroy_ you.”

There’s a feel like a nod behind him, and Scott nods in response and is gone.

Jackson’s grip on Stiles eases, and as soon as he can break free, Stiles ducks down and grabs the stake, turning to brandish it in Jackson’s direction. It’s also the first time he gets a good look at Jackson’s vampire face: the thick and furrowed brow ridge, the teeth that fill his mouth with sharp points. And still Jackson somehow smirks around those teeth, standing there calmly as if Stiles isn’t threatening him.

“You don’t want to kill me,” Jackson says, and the teeth disappear, just a little, his face smoothing and a hint of eyebrow looking like it might return. “You’re too curious to kill me.”

The worst part is, Jackson’s right. Stiles _is_ curious what the hell Scott was talking about, and why Jackson was gnawing on his throat without ripping it open, and why it felt so damned _good_. He knows his best friend and nearly brother wouldn’t abandon him to a monster without good reason, and Scott had been comfortable enough to _threaten_ Jackson without damaging him. Stiles makes a face, lips pursed together. “Okay, yes, I’m curious. Are you going to fulfill that curiosity?”

Jackson laughs, takes a step closer to Stiles. “Do you really think I would become _this_ without knowing all the details first? There are legends about vampires, about how they stay in control, and I didn’t just want power, I wanted that control. Haven’t you ever wondered how Allison keeps her humanity?”

So maybe Stiles has wondered about it once or twice. He’s seen Allison in the daylight, but he just assumed it has something to do with power. After all, she’s part of one of the biggest packs of vampires he’s ever heard of, one of the legendary Argents. On the other hand, Jackson’s implying it’s something else. “What are you trying to say, asswipe?” Stiles spits out, waving the stake between them, keeping Jackson from getting too close.

“I’m saying that some vampires have bonded mates.” Jackson lets the words drop, slow and easy. “Allison has Scott, and as long as they’re together, she’s human when she needs to be. She can go out in the sun without turning into a crisp, she can control her blood lust. If she drinks a sip from him, she’s as sated as if she killed someone else.”

“That’s not a Slayer thing?” Stiles has been operating under misinformation the entire time, assuming that Scott was like catnip for vampires solely because he had supercharged blood. Apparently it’s just Allison who thinks Scott tastes like crack cocaine.

“It’s not Scott I want to suck on.” Jackson’s brow ridges have disappeared completely; his eyebrows are back in place and his sharp teeth look even more strange when he grins, fangs still long despite all other vampiric features being gone. “You see, I thought _Lydia_ would be my anchor. My bonded mate. I knew what I was getting into, I even warned her that something might happen, something I’d need her for. And she said she loved me. But after Gerard turned me, when I woke up, I was blind to everything except the thought of this asshole dork that I was desperate to sink my fangs into.”

He takes another step forward, his hand closing around Stiles’s wrist, fingers pressing in until the stake falls from Stiles’s grip. “As long as I was near you in school, I could stand the sun,” Jackson whispers. “I even made it through lacrosse practice with you there. But Danny and I tested it, and the longer I go without seeing you, the harder it is. The worse I get. And right now I am so desperate for it I might even beg.”

Jackson has his wrist gripped tight, pulls it over Stiles’s head as he backs him into the wall. He grabs his other hand and Stiles lets him, goes with the motion as Jackson nuzzles at this throat, trailing little pinpricks of pleasure across his skin.

“And… and this isn’t going to hurt me?” Stiles asks, voice rough and hoarse because _oh fuck_ that feels brilliant, especially the way Jackson is rocking against him.

“Far from it.” Jackson’s breath shudders and Stiles feels the way his chest vibrates. “What do you say, Stilinski? Just one sip?”

Stiles closes his eyes, tries to breathe evenly which is nearly impossible with Jackson this close. He nods his head once, whispering, “Yes.”

Teeth break the skin, sliding sharply through and bringing pleasure in their wake. Jackson moans, grinding closer as Stiles feels it rush through him, a sensation that drops abruptly into his groin then explodes outwards as Jackson swallows, leaving Stiles with lightheaded and swaying in Jackson’s grip.

Jackson touches his tongue to Stiles’s skin, and it feels so good the way he laves across the raised marks. “I should’ve known you were a screamer,” Jackson murmurs.

“Did I scream?” Stiles doesn’t remember it, just remembers that it felt like the best fucking moment of his life, and it didn’t even involve sex. “Feel free to do that again.”

“Don’t need to, not now.” Jackson licks a path across Stiles’s throat, teases into the hollow, tongue-tip dancing across his pulse. “But there are other things we can do.”

Stiles is well aware what Jackson’s suggesting, and it’s just so _surreal_ to go from enemies to _this_ that he has to check in with him. He pushes at Jackson, takes in the eyes that are almost entirely pupil, only a thin slit of brightly glowing yellow around the edges. He touches the brow ridge that has returned, runs his thumb over the vampiric features, tests the sharpness of his teeth. “Are you sure? I mean, I’m willing to give you a mouthful of blood every once in a while. It’s not like we’re dating. Or even fuckbuddies.”

A slow breath, and Jackson’s features come back to normal, like an Abercombie model breaking through the mold of evil. “You’re my bonded _mate_ , Stilinski.” He sighs impatiently. “We are stuck together, or at least I’m stuck with _you_. And there is absolutely no reason not to enjoy it.” There’s a flicker of wariness in Jackson’s expression, worry seeping through as if he fears that Stiles will leave him to die without him.

Stiles worries at his lower lip, watches the way it draws Jackson’s attention to him, the way he can see a hint of yellow in his eyes as soon as Stiles releases his lip, plump with blood. He pushes towards Jackson, kisses him hard, letting Jackson’s teeth scrape over his skin and sighing when he hears the moan as Jackson tastes a drop of blood.

He’s not so sure about _forever_ , but right now this doesn’t seem so bad.

“Okay, yes. Fuck yes,” Stiles agrees. “I’m in. Whatever you want. I’m in.”

“Strip,” Jackson orders, and his eyes are a bright yellow stripe around a thick, dark pupil. Stiles is pretty sure his dick is standing at attention from the sight of it, and he’ll take the time later to try to figure out when he went from _fear boner_ to _fuck yes_ with Jackson. He doesn’t look away, watches as Jackson reveals perfect abs, slides his jeans down over perfect thighs, and a perfect ass.

Stiles is pretty sure he’s not anything special in comparison, and slows down a little as he throws his flannel off and tugs his t-shirt up.

“If you take too long, I’m just going to leave it on you,” Jackson mutters. He grabs Stiles’s shirt, twists it around his arms, holding it over his head, just covering his eyes and keeping his hands trapped. He feels exposed and he can’t see the look in Jackson’s eyes, but he can feel the trail of a tongue against his nipple. Jackson flicks over the hard nub, then nips at the skin above it and _fuck_ , apparently _pain_ is right up there with _fear_ on Stiles’s top ten turn-ons list.

“Don’t stop,” Stiles pleads.

Jackson worries at one nipple until it aches, sucking it into his mouth hard, then letting it free with a gentle kiss. He bites, sucks a mark into Stiles’s skin, then works his way across to his other nipple and lavishes just as much attention on it. In the end, he suckles gently and it almost undoes Stiles, leaving him swaying with every brush of Jackson’s tongue against the sensitive tip.

He doesn’t need to see Jackson to feel the brilliance of his tongue, to want the way that Jackson slides his hands down Stiles’s sides. His hands are still pinned over his head, his t-shirt still in the way, and he whines in frustration at it.

“ _Now_ you want it off?” Jackson snorts, nipping at the skin just over Stiles’s ribs, and he groans in response, hips shifting to press against the air, seeking friction. “What’ll you do if I get your shirt off.”

“Kiss you.” The words are slightly muffled; Stiles struggles with the shirt, stopping when Jackson grips it, holds him still. His dick is even harder now, if that’s even possible, aching and trapped in his jeans. Stiles adds _bondage_ to the new list of things he likes, and is rapidly wondering if he’ll ever manage to figure this all out.

“Try again,” Jackson whispers.

For all that _fuck you_ seems to be a valid response, Stiles isn’t sure he’s ready for that. Still, when Jackson manages to twist the button on Stiles’s jeans and wedge one hand down in to cup his erection through his underwear, Stiles is pretty sure that he’ll be persuaded eventually. “Fuck, Jackson, just help me get this damned thing off so I can see you and touch you,” he mutters. “Don’t you want my hand on _your_ dick?”

“Better.” Jackson yanks and the shirt is gone, Stiles’s arms dropping quickly when they are released. 

Stiles shoves at his jeans, pushing them down with his underwear and kicking them away somewhat awkwardly while trying not to notice the amused twist to Jackson’s smirk. “Fuck you,” he mutters. “Maybe not today, but eventually, just fuck you for laughing at me.”

“Maybe it’ll be the other way around.” Jackson grabs Stiles, spins him around to push him face first up against the wall. Jackson’s dick fits between Stiles’s thighs, and he instinctively clamps down, giving him something tight to slide through as Jackson groans. “So fucking good.”

Stiles stops thinking because Jackson grabs his cock, stroking it with a quick twist of his wrist, and it feels _so good_ to have someone else touch him. Between the way Jackson is thrusting against him, fucking between his legs and the quick and dirty hand job, Stiles is going to lose control quickly.

When Jackson’s teeth break the skin of his shoulder, and he takes just a tiny sip, Stiles tumbles over the edge, crying out as his body jerks in Jackson’s grasp and he spills all over his hand and the wall.

Jackson goes stiff behind him, and Stiles’s thighs are wet and sticky when they’re done. His legs feel limp, and he lets them buckle, going slowly to his knees as Jackson joins him on the floor.

It’s cold and hard and more than a little uncomfortable, and Stiles doesn’t care at all.

“There are other vampires here,” Jackson says quietly.

Stiles waves a lazy hand. “Scott will take care of them and handle all the slayage, and he’s got the others to back him up. He knows I’m getting it on, and protecting a bro’s dick time is just what a bro does, right?”

He can almost hear the eye roll in Jackson’s words. “Whatever you say. But we should get out of here eventually.”

“When I can walk,” Stiles agrees. There’s a plan slowly forming in the back of his mind, as he sifts through the advantages that Jackson has by virtue of the bond, and just how human he can remain. But it’s all for the future, when his legs don’t feel like jelly and when he’s not curled naked with Jackson idly wondering if round two is a possibility before they leave, or if he has to wait until they get somewhere more appropriate.

So _maybe_ he’s breaking the Slayer code, just a bit. But Stiles isn’t a Slayer, just a part of his helpful gang of friends, and Scott _is_ an actual Slayer and he’s _dating_ a vampire, so there’s precedent set. Right? Besides, Stiles is willing to argue that saving a vampire from becoming the beast is worth it, and if he can do it without dusting him, all the better.

Stiles can rationalize with the best of them, even when he’s thinking with his dick. And right now, he’d say it’s worth it.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on tumblr!


End file.
